


Hello

by littlemissstark315



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Based on an Adele Song, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Sorry, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissstark315/pseuds/littlemissstark315
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet.To go over everything.They say that time's supposed to heal ya, But I ain't done much healing"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello

 

Michel thought his marriage was getting better. Thought maybe his friendship with Trevor was getting better. Although if he was actually honest with himself he would at least acknowledge that what he and Trevor are (had) is more then friends on more then one occasion and probably half the reason for the down fall of his marriage.

But he and Amanda argued more, avoided each other and he's been sleeping on the couch so they don't have to be in the same bed. He sometimes thinks back to when he and Amanda met. So young, happy. It was painful to think of so he tries to avoid that.

Then Trevor. He thought they were getting better to but he was fooling himself as he always had been. After the big one (which was two months ago) he's hasn't heard from Trevor, no word from Lester or Franklin, well barely. Sometimes if he asks he'll at least find out he's still alive and well and not dead from an overdose.

He missed him.

The best times he's had are because of Trevor fucking Philips walking into his house and into his life again. He was hoping they could at least have a beer every week, talk and try to get through some issues. But Trevor hadn't spoke to him in two months.

The day Amanda gave him divorce papers is the day he broke down and called Trevor. It was night and there was no way he was sleeping. He was half drunk, walking around his pool, phone in hand as he diled Trevor's number. It rang. And rang. And rang.

Until it got to voice mail. At least he got to hear his voice some way. He heard the beep and started speaking. "Ah hey. Trev. It's me. Just...just calling to see how you are. I miss ya. Maybe we could get a beer sometime. Call me." He hung up, taking a another drink of whiskey from his glass.

He called again the next week, when the papers were signed and he was moving out. Out by the pool for the last time, walking as he held the phone up to his ear. It went to Trevor's voice mail. Again. He sighed as it beeped. "Hey Trev. Just wanted to let you know the divorce went through. I'm moving out, today actually. Here's my new address." He gave the address before saying goodbye and hanging up. Amanda yelled at him from across the pool to get a move on.

He never wished so much in his life to have his best friend by his side.

He was moved in his new place, ocean view, smaller and cozy. Lonely to. He considered getting a pet but he doesn't trust himself to take care of it properly. He's already fucked up two children, he doesn't want to fuck up another living being. So one night he got drunk, called Trevor and of course it went to voice mail. It's been five goddamn months.

"Trev I'm moved in. Been moved in for a week. Yeah, moved in for a week and already drunk and talking to myself. I miss you. I wish you'd come back. I...I'm sorry. I know I fucked up and I deserve you to hate me but...please just...come say you hate me to my face." He hung up, feeling like a teenage girl for his eyes getting watery.

He told himself it was just the whiskey.

It was Christmas and his family didn't want him around. Tracy was off doing a TV show and Jimmy..we'll probably playing video games. Amanda rejected his offer of a Christmas dinner at his place. He told her he has a tree set up and everything. She wanted nothing to do with him. So here he was Christmas Eve, so drunk he can barely walk hoping to mask the pain but really it just made it worse. Made his emotions less filtered and more "teenage girl" as he puts it. Lester and Franklin we're an option but he was too depressed. He'd only bring them down. He had white Christmas on and wished he had an angel to show him how people would be without him. He knew they would be better off without him and he believed it more then he's believed in anything.

While laying on the couch, staring at the Christmas tree with store bought decorations and no gifts under it, he got his phone, hating how his eyes were already watering as he called Trevor. It rang and rang and went to voice mail. He closed his eyes. "Hey Trev. Merry Christmas I guess. It's not really a merry Christmas. I'm drunk off my ass in my new place because Amanda and the kids want nothing to do with me. No body wants anything to do with me. It's for the better. I just fuck up everything thing and everyone I touch. I think this world would be better off without me. Sorry. I talked about myself. I do that a lot, Amanda and you have both told me. I'm sorry I'm always talking about myself. Il...il just stop." He hung up, ignoring the two wet trails that went down his face.

It was New Years that he decided that this is it. The world doesn't need him or want him. All he's done is hurt people. He had his sharpest knife ready on the table. He paced, feeling nervous and excited that maybe he'll be free of this world and the pain that comes with it but so goddamn bad that nobody wants to stop him. He called Trevor once more, for the last time. As usual it went to voice mail. He spoke.

"Hey Trev. I don't know how to say this but I'm saying goodbye. I'm sorry I've been such a shitty friend. You deserve so much better. I wish I could have been better for you. I...I love you. I guess I always have. Do me a favor, keep an eye on Amanda. Keep the kids out of trouble. They always liked you more. Ah...goodbye." He hung up putting his phone on the table, going to the couch and sitting in front of it, taking the knife from the coffee table.

He knew this was as emo as it gets but overdosing or hanging himself didn't appeal to him and a gun was just too sudden. He wanted to feel the life leave him.

He cut his wrist, making it deep with a hiss before relief when it started bleeding . He watched it flow, hypnotized by the red slowly pooling and staining the rugs and clothing.

He lost track of time, watching it keep flowing and flowing, feeling colder and colder, and lightheaded. He could feel himself fading in and out. He thought he heard his phone ring but in his state it could have just been wishful thinking.

He blacked out for a moment. He kept coming to. He heard the crash of a door and hands on his shoulders, shaking him. The voice was far away. Then they came into view as they started wrapping his wrist up, phone hooked between his shoulder and ear. Trevor. He would have smiled if he had the strength. "I don't care just get an ambulance here before he bleeds out more then he has! I swear if he dies on your watch I will make you all sorry!" He hung up, holding his friends limp head in his hands, one hand staying on his pulse to make sure he has one.

"Mikey you fucking idiot." Micheal got enough strength to talk, weakly. "Trevor...y-your here..." Trevor glared but he could see Trevor's eyes were watery with worry and fear "Yeah I'm here. You kept calling me all lovesick like a teenage girl." "You...ignored me." Micheal coughed from the effort to talk. Once he stopped he saw actual hurt in his eyes. "I know and I'm sorry. Stop talking. You need your strength. Otherwise how are we gonna scream about this when your better?"

He went in and out a few times, each time he was somewhere different or something was happening. He closed his eyes, just for a second he told himself. When he opens them there were several paramedics looking him over and trying to calm Trevor down who was yelling at them to "fucking fix him already!"

The next he was looking at the roof of an ambulance, feeling the movement of the vehicle. The next he was being wheeled in and after that must have been the longest he was out because the spacey, cold feeling was gone but he had a headache and felt tubes going in his arms and Trevor was pacing his room looking the most terrified Micheal has ever seen him. Probably because there's no one to put on an angry face for.

He coughed and it made Trevor jump then glare at him, as if he was never terrified in the first place. He held his hand out like he wanted to slap Mike but stopped, choosing to point instead, realizing it would be pretty shitty to slap someone in the hospital. "You fucking idiot. How could you think you could do that? Is your life really that boring that you have to bring in the dramatics some way or another. Really, cutting your wrist like some emo, wannabe?" Micheal just watched Trevor rant and rave and pace. Trying not to enjoy the fact he's here, even if it is because he almost killed himself.

Suddenly Trevor was inches from his face looking a mixture of furious and terrified. His eyes were red rimmed but he spoke low. "Don't you think for a second you can leave me again."With some talking to the doctors and nurses that no he didn't want therapy, yes, he would be fine , it was a temporary nervous breakdown and yes he will have someone with him as Trevor kept assuring the doctor that "Think I would leave this idiot alone? Not even for five minutes. " The doctor sighed, handing over the release papers, offering there psyche Ward if he should ever need it.

Exiting the hospital was awkward. Although he felt a little weak it wasn't enough to warrant a wheel chair ( maybe just a nap) but hospital regulations and whatnot so Trevor wheeled him out (which was just odd but kinda sweet) but once he was wheeled outside where he could stand he saw Lester and Franklin in the parking lot, talking with coffee in hand.

Michel shook his head. "Jesus T you didn't have to bring the whole crew, I'm fine." "Ok, I'll make sure they don't visit next time you try to off yourself."

Micheal rolled his eyes, walking over, Franklin handing him a coffee, speaking first. "Yo, you doing ok now?" Lester shrugged. "Yeah, missions just wouldn't be the same without your pessimistic sarcasm." Michel let out an amused sound. "Gee. I feel the love. Yes, I'm fine. Can you just take me home? We can talk there." Trevor was silent on the way home and at home. He gave them a short tour of his new place, ordered pizza and explained that he was just in a dark place, drank a lot of whiskey and made a bad call.

"Really, I'm fine or I'm going to be fine. I'm gonna try and do more with whats left of my life you know? Maybe try and make another movie?" Franklin nodded. "You could probably write one dog. I'd see it." Micheal nodded, considering it. Lester stood, using his cane. "I'm sorry to leave but I have doctors appointment, if I want to be there on time I have to beat traffic. Franklin?" Franklin nodded before standing, looking at Micheal. "Seriously man, you ok?" Micheal nodded. "I will be." "If you need to talk, holler at me dog." He clapped a supportive hand on his shoulder before leaving to drive Lester to his appointment.

Trevor's been silent the whole time and honestly it's been bugging him. Once the door closed he sighed, turning to Trevor. "You've been quiet." Trevor shrugged. "Yeah? Well maybe I have a lot to think about. You think about that?" Micheal didn't know what to say to that and it showed. Trevor stood, facing him. "Oh so now you don't know what to say because you sure seemed to have a lot to say over fucking voice mail." Micheal shook his head. "I'm honestly a little surprised you even listened to them. Why didn't you pick up? Even once to tell me to fuck off." "I was healing! God, after finding all of your lies, digging them up, excuse me if I was a little hurt in the end. I mourned for you!"

At this point Trevor was closer, nearly yelling in his face. "I mourned you when I thought you were actually dead not living a lie in Los Santos. Then to find out your alive and well and filthy fucking rich. Then once every truth was quite literally dug up...God I hated you. I hated you for breaking my heart, for your lies. I tolerated you for the jobs but afterwards I knew I wanted nothing to do with you for a good long while. But then you kept calling and calling and calling. I listened to every voice mail and I hated myself because I wanted to come running back to you."

Micheal swallowed down the lump that had been growing in his throat since Trevor started. He spoke low. "Why did't you?" "Because I wanted you to be the one to miss me for once in your miserable life." Micheal honestly wasn't sure how to take that, implications in it. Suddenly there were hands on his face, holding it in place as he stared into Trevor's eyes. He's never seen him look so vulnerable in his life. "Don't you ever think you can leave me again." "I won't." Micheal rasped out, taken aback by the sudden emotion between them. Trevor closed the gap between them, kissing him softly, like he was glass. He knew what Trevor was too scared to actually say. _I_

_love you_

_please don't leave me.  
I couldn't take it if I lost you again._


End file.
